


Fanged Faux-Paw

by Backwardshirt



Series: Finding Folklore [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: After TTYBW, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Dogs seem to like him, Grimmjow doesn't like dogs pass it on, Ichigo prefers cats obviously, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Jealousy, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Protective Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backwardshirt/pseuds/Backwardshirt
Summary: Well, Ichigo thought they were going to talk about that kiss after getting chased around by the furiously blushing ex-espada, but then Nel happened. Stealing away Grimmjow was one thing, but keeping him for five whole days was too much.What was so important she couldn't say hi to Ichigo?And why hasn't Grimmjow come back yet?
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo, minor Tatsuki/Orihime, minor Yoruichi/Urahara
Series: Finding Folklore [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083188
Comments: 10
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hooray for snow keeping me home, I guess? I hope everyone is able to stay warm and protected out there!!  
> Here's yet another installment in the silly stories! I'd like to thank Jacket_Potato for their suggestion of 'Bakeneko', and ArisuAmiChan for their suggestion of 'Inugami' (and more I will definitely be using)! Thanks so much! I hope I did it justice! I broke this one up into two smaller chapters again since I thought it was probably a little more fitting that way.  
> Don't forget to read the other three previous parts of the series~~~ I'm trying to make them cohesive enough to not necessarily need it, but from now on it probably won't be quite that easy.

Ichigo sighed, shoulders lifting and sagging with much effort, lip pushed in a pout, looking at Orihime, who was staring back with her big, bright eyes. Tatsuki was sitting beside her, watching him mope and fiddle around with his tea as he complained about Grimmjow. Well, to be more precise, he was complaining of his _lack_ of Grimmjow, and Tatsuki was starting to get impatient, tapping her fingertips on the table, rolling her eyes, at one point, she’d blown a loose strand of hair away that was dangling between her brows. The works.

“So, he left just like that? Five days and he hasn’t called? Sounds like you scared him off if you’re asking me.” 

Ichigo felt his eye twitch at her words. Sure, he’d asked, but she also didn’t know Grimmjow quite like he did. He wasn’t the type to up and leave. Hell, Ichigo didn’t even know if the guy got scared, let alone this being something that would _scare him off,_ as Tatsuki so elegantly put it.

He took a sip of his tea, stinging his bottom lip which he’d chewed the skin off in the right corner. It was either that or start picking at his fingernails, and he had been trying to break that habit. It was stress! He couldn’t help it; half the time he didn’t even realize he’d done anything too serious until he saw blood on his fingertips. Yuzu had made him soak his fingers in vinegar more than once, not that it had worked. 

“It’s not quite that simple. I mean, Nel kind of…tackled him…and drug him through a Garganta…”

They hadn’t even gotten a chance to talk about the kiss. Covered in snow and rock and grime after being shoved down on the ground in favor of a not-bird was one thing; not getting to discuss the intentional lip locking was maybe not something he was looking forward to, but at least they could hopefully stop dancing around the subject. Ichigo was shit with this kind of stuff, but at least he had enough sense to know it. Mostly, anyway. Glancing at his cup, he frowned, corners of his lips pulling down as he glared into the contents. At least it wasn’t boiled Gatorade, but he wouldn’t put it past Orihime to try. Good thing she was going to nursing school instead of culinary school. 

Grimmjow hadn’t said anything when he locked his arrancar mouth on him, and yeah, it was definitely a quick thing, Ichigo hadn’t thought too much about it then, but now? That really hadn’t helped his feelings regarding the man, but it did put him in a more favorable light, especially since everything else…happened.

That and Yuzu already loved the guy. Him eating like a damned pig for breakfast only helped to put him in the most favorable light Yuzu could make, and that was saying something. Ichigo had told her after he’d gotten back that he’d tried to kill him more than once, but at that point she didn’t care. _He ate more of my food than you and Dad combined, Ichi-nii. He has my permission to marry you if he asked._ If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she’d take it in her own hands, and that was out of the question.

Ichigo had hoped to get some time to talk to him as they traveled back through that weird portal-thing to Urahara’s shop, but Nel snatched the guy and hauled ass away, toting Grimmjow over her shoulder like a comically oversized and fighty purse. She barely offered a wave as the garganta closed, and Ichigo would’ve been pissed, had he not been so confused. Nel was always happy to see him—always hugging and crushing him in a bone-shattering squeeze. What was so important she couldn’t at least tell him hi? He hoped nothing was wrong with Hueco Mundo, but Urahara hadn’t offered much in the way of a reply when he’d said something to him. That was five days ago, and now he was whining his woes away to two of his closest friends.

“Awww, I wish I’d been there to see her,” Orihime pouted, frowning into her teacup, tilting it and swirling the tea inside around. It was some new kind of tea she’d found in a new tea-shop down the street. 

“I think she was in a hurry; she barely saw me, I think.”

Ichigo couldn’t believe it either if he was being honest with himself. Nel hadn’t said two words to him. He was in his soul reaper form and hadn’t been trying to mask his presence, so he should’ve been pretty obvious, especially since Grimmjow had been yelling incomprehensibly at him the whole time, even when Nel lugged him over her shoulders.

Was she angry? Was it entirely possible she didn’t see him? No, she looked at him, she knew he was there…at least he was pretty sure. Her eyes were focused elsewhere, even if she did look at him. Had Harribel requested Nel get him? He didn’t know much about Hueco Mundo’s queen except she was strong and kind of scary.

Ichigo stood there, in the sky on his reishi footholds and watched Nel drag an unreluctant man through a portal back to a world that was covered in sand and ruin, as he yelled a mix of languages at both of them. How many languages did Grimmjow know anyway? Some of those words were neither Japanese or Spanish. He’d tried to search around on the internet and the closest he was come to was _maybe_ it was Norwegian? _Faen i helvete_ _,_ Ichigo thought, _is what he said. At least, I think._ Which, yeah, translated into basically him cussing the two of them out. Typical Grimmjow.

“Why don’t you check on him if you’re so worried, instead of pouting to us about your not so unrequited love?” Tatsuki asked, sipping from her own cup and breaking him from his thoughts of how many swear words in how many languages Grimmjow knew. Ichigo blushed as her words sunk in.

“Wha—I never said anything about love, unrequited or otherwise!” Orihime giggled as he yelled, his voice cracking halfway through, but he decided to own it. Both women noticed and gave each other knowing glances, Orihime laying her head on Tatsuki’s shoulder once as he foundered around his words like a gaping fish out of water. They had found an apartment suited for both of them while attending university, Orihime studying nursing, and Tatsuki a business degree for her dojo she was planning to open.

_That way Tatsuki can have a nurse on call whenever she needs one!_ Orihime had said when she told Ichigo the news, a couple months after their lives had gotten less…scary. Ichigo had just shook his head and smiled; it was so like her.

“Besides,” he added, frowning back at them and gripping his cup. “It’s not exactly easy to get there.”

Orihime cocked her head at him, well as much as she could anyway. She was still halfway leaning on Tatsuki. 

“You can’t open a garganta?”

Ichigo furrowed his brows and stared at her.

“Why would I be able to do that?” He’d never been able to open one before, at least; not that he’d actively tried as of late...or ever, for that matter. 

She shrugged, setting her head upright and taking a drink from her own cup, finishing it off and standing to collect his and Tatsuki’s.

“I mean, you grew a horn when you fought against Yack-weh.” Ichigo spit out his tea, dribbling it down his chin and onto his clean shirt as he tried not to choke at her mispronunciation. She continued, unbothered by Ichigo’s sputtering around like a toddler who didn’t understand how drinking worked. “I guess I figured since you could tap into your hollow powers more now, that would be something you could do.” 

“It’s Yhwach, Orihime, not…whatever you just said,” he said laughing. Depositing the cups in the sink, she turned around with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. 

“Please, no-one could pronounce it after he said it. I’m not starting now.” Ichigo rolled his eyes, not bothering to suppress his chuckle. When had she gotten so sassy? Tatsuki’s had quite the influence on her, he decided, smiling at them, as the black-haired woman planted a quick kiss on the side of her cheek.

_Hey Shiro, can you open a garganta?_

**Oh, so now you want me.**

_It’s just a question._

**It’s never just a question with you, King.**

_Look, can you do it or not?_

**I can. You can’t.**

Ichigo sighed. Great. So, it was… _theoretically_ possible, if Shiro would just cooperate, which he hadn’t done once in his life, even if they basically shared the same _body damnit,_ so that meant Ichigo had only one other option.

Frowning down at his hands, Ichigo stood, thanking them for listening to his ramblings. Promising Orihime not to miss their next study date with Uryu, Ichigo excused himself and headed for the last place he’d rather enter for the next fifteen years—Urahara’s. 

……….

“Ahh~~~ and what brings you hear, dear Ichigo? After you stuffed those feathers in my mouth, I didn’t think I was going to see you quite so soon. Thankfully, I do have another—”

Ichigo cut him off with a solid right hook. _He deserved it,_ Ichigo thought, as he watched Urahara sail back and hit a rouge rock in his underground training chamber from hell. How that guy’s hat was still on, he had no idea. Maybe Ururu glued it to his head like that scene in _Matilda._ He’d have to suggest it if they didn’t. Jinta would probably jump at the chance. They had to have something stronger than Elmer’s glue around here somewhere.

“I want you to open up a garganta,” Ichigo said as nonchalantly as he could, shaking out his fist. That damned shopkeeper had a chin that could cut through leather, the bastard.

“Dat’s not a very nice way of asking.” Urahra held his abused nose, blood dribbling down his chin hit his haori with a couple of fat, crimson droplets.

“I can punch you again if you’d like.”

Crossing his arms across his chest, Ichigo felt loose black folds on his shihaksho tangle around his arms. He was already in spirit form, telling Urahara to meet him in the training bunker, that way he could get the maximum distance for the punch he already intended to give him. Premeditated assault at its finest.

“I’d like that very much,” Yoruichi said from behind him with a snicker. Ichigo turned his head, staring at her perched upside down, leg crossed over another as she lay on her back on a flat-topped rock, arms hanging off, scratching claw marks into the craggy surface like the content crazy cat she was. The angle made him squint, since the fake sun was shining directly in his eyes as he tried to look at her.

“You just love me for my cooking,” Urahara said as he stood, dusting off the dirt from his clothing and hat, cane-sword no where to be seen. Pulling out a cloth from his pocket, he wiped the blood from his face and stuffed it back. 

“Believe me, that’s the least loveable thing about you.” Yoruichi stretched her limbs outward, but otherwise didn’t move from her spot.

The shopkeeper pouted and scratched his scruffy face, reminding him of a child who’d gotten smacked on the hand with a ruler after he’d tried to steal from the cookie jar one too many times. Personally, Ichigo disagreed with her, but he didn’t live there, so maybe she was right.

“One more mission. That’s all I ask from you Ichigo.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You probably have a new drug you want me to test right now.”

“Ah, you know me too well, I’m afraid. But we can all believe it for right now, yes? You do want me to open the portal so you can get to your Grimmjow, right?” Ichigo’s eye twitched as the shopkeeper smiled, pulling out his fan and waving it with an ease only a madman could employ. He’d need to talk to his hollow side a bit more nicely so he wouldn’t have to rely on the pervy bastard so much.

Whatever, if he could get Grimmjow and get back, it would be worth it. Hopefully this next drug would at least taste good.

….

As Ichigo jumped out of the garganta, he landed in the worst Zen garden in the world, all white sand and bones littered between tall rocks and crystalized trees jutting up from the Menos forest below. Well, it was probably the best Zen garden on this side of Hueco Mundo, seeing as how the whole area was one, but he’d seen better in a turd filled litter box. Glancing up to his left, he could make out a towering ruin, crumbling into the sand, but couldn’t see the bottom, as rocks and some desert hills were obstructing the view. Grimmjow’s spiritual pressure flared from that direction like a beacon, bright and unwavering.

_I wonder how much he had to put out for me to sense it since I’m shit at it,_ he wondered, taking steps in the direction of the reiatsu. It was a weird feeling. He knew how he felt close up, when they sparred, but this time it was different. Even without crossing blades with him, he could tell Grimmjow felt…tired…frustrated? How was that possible? _Wait_. Ichigo stopped moving towards the flare up, eyes going wide, negative feeling building up in his gut. 

_Has Grimmjow been sparring with someone the last few days?_

**Ooohhh, the plot thickens.**

_You shut your whore mouth._

Ichigo had no desire to interact with Shiro, who was swinging around his own sword manically, a two-toned giggle escaping from his mouth like a demented little schoolgirl out for blood. He needed to put a sock in it. Ichigo still hadn’t followed through with the banjo music, opting instead for ritualistic koto playing. Trading with earthly spirits for weird items left Ichigo in a learning mood, why not listen to music that was played for them? Besides, it was kind of soothing, if he was being honest. And it shut Shiro up all the same. Two birds, meet one stone, and all that. 

But the thought of Grimmjow sparring with someone else, of _sharing_ the arrancar with someone else, arrancar, Shinigami, or otherwise, sent a cold, possessive chill straight down his back and straight into the desert’s shifting sands. Why would he need to spar with someone else? Wasn’t Ichigo enough, or…

_No,_ he thought, shaking his head. It didn’t matter. Grimmjow had a life outside of him, right? Not only was the man allowed to live it, he was _entitled_ to it, especially after all the shit with Aizen and the Quincy’s went down. What he did with it, well, that was his own business, wasn’t it?

_Maybe this was a mistake._

**Oh please, you’re just being dramatic.**

_Am I?_

**Tch. You’re _always_ dramatic. Quite acting like a little bitch, King. Go on now and find him. **

Ignoring his chatty lizard brain was never an easy thing, especially when he _maybe_ made a decent point. Maybe he should at least go see what was more interesting than him. Okay, that wasn’t necessarily fair to Grimmjow by assuming that, but still. He’d been living at the shoten for like two whole months, irritating, aggravating, and making Ichigo catch _feelings_ of all things. What the hell was he supposed to think?

Preparing to flash step towards the wildfire reiatsu, a small crack of a sonido knocked him out of his concentration instead. A dash of teal-green hair obstructed his view as he was thrown on his back into the white sand, grittiness getting into the fold of his clothes and between areas of his skin he really didn’t want to think about.

Air left his lungs as his body cracked under a crushing hug the woman was giving him, strangling him from in front and behind simultaneously. Bone skull mask knocked up against his cheek and chin, scraping smooth surface of his skin slightly, but still uncomfortably. The horn knocked against his temple.

“Hi…Nel…” Ichigo was able to squeak out with the last amount of oxygen in his body. He never thought this would be how he would die, but there were invariably worse ways to go. Maybe Karin would write a decent eulogy.

“Oh Ichigo I’m so glad to see you! I know I didn’t say anything a few days ago but I was in such a hurry and—”

Ichigo tapped her back twice, an indicator, he hoped, for her to release him from her death grip. She didn’t, but at least he tried. If anything, she clung to him tighter, arms squeezing more around his deflated torso and probably cracking a rib or two. Yuzu would miss him quite a bit. At least Kon had his body for now. He’d never get help on the study session now, not if he was dead in Hueco Mundo, crushed by a ram’s smothering hug. Urahara would have to test his drug out on Jinta. He probably did something that warranted it, anyway. It served him right.

“I know Grimmjow has been in the human world quite a bit, but it was super important that he come back, for just a little bit but now it’s not working either!”

Ichigo’s head bounced against the sand as Nel began to shake him; he could hear some of the words running out of her mouth, but everything felt more like a blur. Sand shifted into his tabi and waraji, not to mention it was all over his backside and in his armpits. _I hate sand._

“I was just about to come and get you too so maybe between the both of you, you could help!” Nel sounded frantic, he noticed, as she finally let go of his broken body, letting him lie in the sand like a dead bug. He shuddered a little—he hated bugs, they gave him the creeps, especially the big ones with lots of legs. Hell. No. Heaving breath back into his squished lungs came to life easily enough as he shifted around and sat, propping himself on his arms, spraying his bug thoughts away with imaginary Raid™.

“Nel,” he said, trying to regulate his breathing to non-ridiculous levels. “Slow down, what do you mean? What’s going on?”

As they locked eyes, he could see the worry in hers and she chewed her bottom lip and looked off to the distance where Grimmjow’s reiatsu was still flaring.

“It’s an emergency, please help, Ichigo.”

Ichigo stood in front of the tall ruin, a shadow casting far behind it as the never-ending moon shone from behind him. Broken and crumbling, he still had to crane his neck up to view the top. It reminded him of those large, red pillars he and Grimmjow destroyed those years ago when he’d come to rescue Orihime. That had been a good fight, even if he was reluctant to admit it at the time. _That was probably what started…whatever we’ve been doing,_ he realized, remembering his promise to Grimmjow.

Speaking of Grimmjow, he was sitting in front of the pillar, on some steps leading to a darkened entrance, thick chain around one ankle, connecting to something inside of the great pillar, or at least behind him enough that Ichigo couldn’t see what. His head was in his hands and a small, hollow shaped dog sat beside him, tongue sticking out, tail wagging.

_This was what Nel called an emergency?_

**For him maybe.**

“Uh…Grimmjow?” Shushing Shiro of his incessant cackling did little good, but he tried nonetheless. His voice sounded unsure as he looked on at the sight, not quite sure what to think of it. Nel had stolen Grimmjow away for…what exactly? To babysit a hollow-shaped dog? He looked familiar too, Ichigo decided as he squinted at the beast which was smaller than one of Grimmjow’s thighs.

The ex-espada dropped one hand away and turned his head to face the ginger Shinigami, remaining hand squishing up the features on his face a little, making him look softer and way less deadly than Ichigo knew he was. He didn’t even try to glare when Ichigo’s mouth fell open, eyes darting between the arrancar and the dog, which barked once.

“Did Nel get you? She said she would.”

He sounded pretty defeated for someone who didn’t look like they’d been fighting… _anything,_ Ichigo thought as he glanced around. Nope. Just him, Grimmjow, a hollowesque dog, and the vast, empty desert. Nel had stayed behind to compose herself and would probably be along shortly. At least, he hoped she would. 

“Kind of. What’s…happening?”

The dog barked from beside him, and wagged a surprisingly fluffy tail. Grimmjow snarled at it some, but didn’t make any moves, sudden or sluggish, as the creature jumped down from the steps and ran out to greet Ichigo, and ran back just as quickly, knocking against Grimmjow’s side with all the force of a hyperactive rabbit. The man swiped at it half-heartedly, and without aim, missing it by a mile. The dog thought he was playing apparently, as it turned in circles barely out of reach of Grimmjow’s clawless fingers. 

“Huh…always took you for more of a cat person,” Ichigo said, walking up and scratching the bone mask between the ears, earning a happy sound from the now stopped creature. Grimmjow glared at him and then at the hand Ichigo was using to scratch the pup with like it was personally offending him. 

“So…you’ve been…,” Ichigo tried to choose his words carefully, hoping that Grimmjow wouldn’t haul off and punch him in much the same fashion he did Urahara. “Pet sitting for five days?”

Grimmjow snorted and looked away, squishing his face into his hand even more, careful not to press against his hollow mask uncomfortably. “I’m not here because I want to be, idiot.”

_And I thought I didn’t have a life._

**Easy there, King. You don’t.**

_Shut up._

“Kukkapūro won’t leave, and I thought Grimmjow could help,” came a pouty, feminine voice behind Ichigo. Turning around, sand getting in between his toes, grinding around in the space unpleasantly, Ichigo saw Nel behind him, squinting at them, a cute frown resting on her lips.

Arms crossed over her chest, she glared at the scene in front of her. Ichigo petting the hollow dog while Grimmjow sulked on the steps he was chained to. Craning his neck Ichigo followed the chain on Grimmjow’s ankle with his eyes until it disappeared inside the pillar. What the hell had Nel chained him to? And it just looked like a regular chain, why didn’t he just…break it and run? Was it a pride thing? Or was the chain made of something like the seki-seki stone from the Seireitei?

“This is Yammy’s dog…person…hollow, right?”

Ichigo stopped scratching and sat beside the dog, nestling it between himself and Grimmjow, who turned his head towards him.

“Tch. Yeah, but he didn’t want him either,” Grimmjow supplied, eyes flicking down once to the hollow before his gaze was back, locked onto Ichigo’s eyes. 

“Right. So you’ve said. But…” Ichigo broke away from Grimmjow’s stare and looked at Nel, who was still pouting with her arms crossed, glaring at the scene. Kukkapūro hopped up onto his lap, and Ichigo tried to ignore the weirdness of it, even though he settled a hand on his back. “What’s so urgent, exactly?”

“Apachi, Sun Sun, and Mila Rose suggested that maybe he’d chase Grimmjow if he turned in his Resurrection form, but Grimmjow’s just been sitting there since I brought him back moping that I chained him there,” Nel said, crossing her arms and glaring at Grimmjow in the most un-scary way possible. Ichigo listened to the man growl on his right side; it was either that or start laughing at the absurdity of the suggestion and get cero scorched by Grimmjow who looked half a second away from losing the rest of his mind. 

“No offence Nel, but I’m not sure anything those three suggest is…a good idea. And what’s this chain made with, exactly?”

The last time he’d saw the Tres Bestias was too soon. The one with two colored eyes had almost skewered him with her horn like he was some kind of fleshy piñata, the damned angry unicorn, while the snake did nothing and the lioness laughed her ass off. He could go awhile without seeing them again. How Harribel kept them from killing each other was a mystery to him, but he didn’t know her all that well, and quite frankly was a little scared to try. He’d stick with Grimmjow and Nel. He was much more comfortable with their company, anyway. A cold wetness drug around on his hand, looking down, he saw the dog run his hollow tongue over his hand, and grimaced. This was still some dead guy in a dog form, right?

_Eh, better not to think about it._

**You didn’t mind it when it was _his_ tongue, King.**

_That was…different._

**Oh really? I’d love to know how~~**

_Can’t you go fight with the old man or something? I think he wants to have majority rules again._

****

“Well Kukkapūro been sitting on those steps ever since Yammy died, and I hate it. He needs to come with me so I can love him already,” she said with a flourish of arms, ignoring Ichigo’s question about the chain and settling her fists on her hips when she was done. Stamping her way over to them, he heard Grimmjow moved around a little, the chain scraping against stone. He pretended to look at the dog still licking his hand— _god,_ this was uncomfortable—but really was focusing on Grimmjow scowling in his prereferral vision, lips set in a thin line, glaring at the scene.

“Tch, you’re a hollow. Since when can hollows love?” Grimmjow bit back, sinking Ichigo’s heart like a stone in the bluest lake imaginable. He was still looking at Ichigo with Kukkapūro on his lap; at least he stopped licking his hand, Ichigo thought, wiping the wetness away on his sleeve.

“Since Aizen you big dummy. Quit moping already. You’re just mad I interrupted your game of chase and chained you to this spot with a dog, you angry cat. He’s not even a big dog. Kisuke said they can get way bigger than him, anyway.”

_Wait,_ Ichigo thought, _Aizen changed them that much with the Hogyoku?_ Ichigo wanted to kiss Nel on the cheek for that little tid-bit, that and the way the barest amount of pink dusted across the bridge of the blue-eyed arrancar’s nose as Ichigo caught him staring. He made a _hmphf_ sound as he turned his head away, glaring into some unknown distance. Glancing back at Nel, she had a toothy smile on her face, so he was probably just mad she was right. Well, that and the fact he was still chained up with only a dog as company for five days. That would get on the most patient person’s nerves, Ichigo figured.

Kukkapūro slid off his lap and tried to hop onto Grimmjow, who made a startled sound and swatted him away, not that the creature was discouraged by the man’s actions, deciding to put two paws on his thigh and look up at him instead, barking at him a couple times.

“See what I mean?” Nel threw her arms out in a frustrated gesture, more like a child than a grown woman and waving to what Ichigo could clearly see. Grimmjow let his other hand drop and stared at the beast, a sigh heaving his chest up and down. The dog whined, clearly begging for the man’s attention, and Ichigo couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little guy. If he’d been in that spot since Yammy died, he’d been alone for a couple years now. Ichigo swiped a hand across his back just to let him have a little friendly contact.

“I’m not transforming to see if this stupid thing will chase me back to Las Noches,” he said with finality, glaring up at Nel. “’sides, he’s already out, can’t you just grab him and take him back with you?” 

“Aw c’mon, Grimmjow, that’s no fun!”

Ah, so he was there to get the pup out of hiding then? Ichigo didn’t understand how that could’ve possibly worked, being as how he was a pretty intimidating presence, but he tried not to read too much into it. They must be really bored since the war ended. And where were Dondochaka and Pesche? Weren’t they usually hanging around her like a couple of flies, trying to contain her nonexistent impulse control? _Probably too scared of Grimmjow,_ he decided, standing up and grabbing Kukkapūro, holding the dog up to Nel like an invitation.

She squealed and latched onto Ichigo’s non-dog holding arm, rubbing her face on his sleeve a little, earning a growl from the man behind him.

“See Grimmjow it wasn’t that hard!”

Grimmjow clicked his tongue behind them while Kukkapūro wiggled around in Ichigo’s grip; he felt the bone mask hit his arm a couple times, but not in a threatening way. Not that the pup was all that threatening to begin with. 

“Nel, do you have a key or something for these chains? I need him to come back with me.”

Ichigo turned around and looked at Grimmjow, still sitting on the steps, scowling up at Ichigo. 

Swiping the dog out from Ichigo’s arms, Nel cradled him at her chest, making cooing noises while she fished something out of her shoulder plate. Tossing it to Ichigo without looking, he caught it—it was a key, still warm.

“Looks like you’ve got a way with dogs,” Nel said, crooning at the little beast, not looking up from the him, who seemed just as content in her arms. Ichigo went and knelt by Grimmjow’s legs, looking at the chain, holding it between his hands. It was heavy, but he couldn’t tell if it was seki-seki or not. It must’ve been, otherwise, he was sure he would’ve broken it into pieces. He noticed the arrancar visibly tense as he maneuvered the chain around and put a hand on his ankle—Ichigo would just have to trust Grimmjow to not kick him across the whole of the desert.

That and not crush his head like a watermelon between his thighs, as he pushed his other leg away slightly, since the keyhole was on the inside of the shackle, and sat between his legs. Ichigo tried to put thoughts he _definitely_ shouldn’t’ve been thinking out of his mind. Could Grimmjow have unlocked himself? Yes. Was Ichigo being a pain in the ass just because? Also yes. Did he enjoy getting up in Grimmjow’s personal space solely to irritate him? Absolutely.

“I prefer cats, actually,” Ichigo mumbled, putting the key into the lock and turning it. It fell onto the steps with a heavy metallic sound, but Ichigo didn’t move, opting to stay kneeling as Grimmjow still sat on the steps, looking at him with a scrunched up face.

“Tch.”

Was Ichigo imagining that blush on Grimmjow’s face or was that really there? Was the moonlight playing tricks on him? He hoped not. And if it was—he hoped it wouldn’t say anything otherwise.

“So are we gonna talk abou—”

“Nope. I got the lipstick. You got the feathers. We’re even.” Grimmjow wasn’t looking at him as he spoke, opting to stare at…Nel or something else more interesting behind Ichigo, one hand on his still slightly pink face.

Even wasn’t really the word Ichigo was going for either—he guessed that was a true statement, but still. Not the best word.

“But—”

“No, Kurosaki.”

It sounded more like he was ordering a dog to sit rather than a man to drop the subject, but with an abundance of reluctance, Ichigo did as he was told. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with him right now anyway.

Grimmjow stood, but not before planting a palm across Ichigo’s face and dragging him up with him. _Again with the hand on my face, what’s his deal?_

“So what’s the geezer want this time?”

Ichigo found Grimmjow’s wrist and tried to pry him off his face, but didn’t yank too hard; he could feel claw-like fingertips prickling into his forehead and cheeks.

_How does he expect me to answer with his hand on my face?_

**Maybe he wants a little more contact, King.**

_I’m not taking anymore of your advice if you won’t tell me how to open a garganta._

If Shiro was going to be a little brat, Ichigo could be just as petty right back. He could also be petty to Grimmjow, who still hadn’t removed his stupidly large hand from his face, so he did what anyone would do in his situation. He stuck his tongue out and drug it across the palm splayed out across his face like a spiderweb.

Grimmjow let out a startled sound as he pushed Ichigo away, and bared his deadly sharp fangs. Ichigo half expected him to let out a feral hiss, but the sound never came. Instead, he watched as the arrancar wiped his hand across his zippered chest, ignoring the faint laughter of Nel in the background. Glancing behind him, Ichigo saw that she was a quite a distance away, half concerned with her new pet, but definitely watching the struggle between Ichigo and Grimmjow with a grin on her face.

“I honestly don’t know what else you were expect—AH!”

Ichigo heard the definitive sound of a garganta cracking open as Grimmjow threw himself at Ichigo pushing him back and into a falling darkness, swallowing them both. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoruichi had asked Kisuke if she could borrow Grimmjow, instead of them both going on his little treasure hunt or whatever the hell he wanted them to find. Was Grimmjow mad about it? Yes. Why couldn't they just do one and then the other? Whatever. The faster he got it done, the faster he could go and bother Kurosaki.

The sun was just setting on the horizon. Yoruichi said it was some special part of the day, but it looked like any other sunset to him.

As they fell into the bunker, his hands gripping the collar of Kurosaki’s shihaksho and shaking him, straddling his hips as they landed, both creeps were watching with their stupid faces hidden behind Kisuke’s dumbass fan.

Yoruichi had asked if she could _borrow_ Grimmjow for a separate mission like he was some kind of toy, since this next one from the clog wearing freak was supposed to be _easy,_ or whatever. Kisuke didn’t mind and Yoruichi took him to another part of the bunker in a flash. Seriously, what was with the women manhandling him now? He hated it. He didn’t mind it so much when Kurosaki got his grabby hands on him, not that he’d admit it, but Nel and Yoruichi were another story.

He fully intended to lop of all of Nel’s hair when the next opportunity arose. She deserved it—she knew he didn’t care for dogs, especially since he saw so many in the dumb park when Kurosaki took him there. He wasn’t _scared_ of them; he could take any one of them in a fight, but something about their smell set his nerves on fire, and he didn’t _like_ it damnit.

Her mission was simple enough though. The sooner he got some big-ass fang, the sooner he could go find that stupid Shinigami and give him a piece of his mind. Or sword. Whichever happened second. That and he needed to wrestle that hooded thing back on him for a while when he got back in his human body. The scent was starting to disappear and Grimmjow didn’t like that either. So, what if he was starting to like Kurosaki’s scent? Bastard didn’t have to know. He came all the way to Hueco Mundo to bring him back, so that was…something. Besides, the world of the living was way more interesting than some boring ass desert filled with bones and not much else.

Grimmjow could sense the ginger too, he wasn’t that far, surprisingly enough. Whatever Yoruichi was having him do, it put him well within a couple miles of the Shinigami. Was it intentional? Hell if he knew, but probably, if he had to guess.

Sun dipping lower, setting warm colors awash in the sky. It reminded him of Kurosaki’s hair— _sunshine_ , what two of the three spirits called him, and he could agree privately. Nel had cried the first time she saw a sunset; Grimmjow didn’t think it was a big deal. Just a bunch of different colors mixing together in the sky. But the one he actually saw with the Shinigami, when they first saw that slimy thing—Kappa or whatever it was called—that one wasn’t too bad. That first kiss had _nothing_ to do with it either.

“Least I could see more that first time. This forest is damn thick,” he grumbled to himself, smacking a newly leafed limb out of his way, cutting through it with his claws. Whatever mission Kisuke had sent Kurosaki on, he found himself halfway wishing they were on the same one. Why couldn’t they get whatever the hell Kurosaki was supposed to get, then the fang and then be done? What if Kurosaki ran into something akin to that damned fox woman? Then what? He shouldn’t always be around to save his sorry ass, but Grimmjow found himself… _wanting_ too? Tch. That idiot could take care of himself just fine…usually.

_Shit, Nel was right. Maybe. Hopefully not._

Swatting past another branch, heading deeper into the forest, losing the sun almost completely through the thickness of the trees and overgrown underbrush, he stopped, looking around at his surroundings. Something felt off—a smell, musky and dirty, like wet, muddy fur, hung in the air like a thick curtain. He didn’t like it. Something about it was…familiar?

No. Grimmjow shook his head, blue hair whipping around in the windless air, and thought back to that bird mountain, running a thumb over his bottom lip. _So Kurosaki wants to talk, huh? What a little shit—_

The ground shook beneath him.

Once.

Twice.

Deep, rumbling along and through the trees. Cracking. Snapping. A limb thicker than his bicep sailed barely over his head, a few stray leaves fluttering down around him as he watched it hit the ground and shatter in front of him like glass. Wooden splinters of bark knocked up against his legs but he hardly felt the impact between his jumpsuit and his hierro.

Something splattered onto his shoulder.

Hot and, he glanced to his left, where it hit, sliding down his arm, foamy. Bubbles dripping past his elbow and dropping onto the ground below. More splattered against his back and onto his head, causing him to flinch at the sensation. 

Slowly, forcing a shudder down, his eyes looked to the side, where he saw it.

A paw.

At least as big as Yammy’s fat-ass corpse, just…sitting there, crushing new saplings that were trying to grow upwards not… die by pawprint. Attached to an even bigger leg.

Tilting his head upwards, feeling the gross slide of the bubbly foam down his head and neck, he saw it fully, breath halting as he heard another splatter of foam hit the ground.

_Oh fuck my life._

A massive canine head was looking down, looming over him, teeth bared in the dimming light, foamy, disgusting, drool drizzling out of and between fangs longer than his forearm.

He felt Pantera’s pommel under his palm; it should’ve been a comforting feeling. But this beast was massive. Bigger than the shinigami’s shitty little house, smelly fur, a light brown or tan with white around the mouth and on its undersides, Grimmjow watched as its nose twitched, smelling him.

_Move damnit, it ain’t even as big as a menos._

The beast moved its nose closer, closer until it was touching the furthest tips of Grimmjow’s hair, blowing hot, stinking, breath down on him in a disgusting shower of smells and it quickly inhaled back in, trying to suck some of his hair along with it. Its mouth was still open, revealing a row of teeth he’d rather not be on the wrong side of.

_But a menos ain’t a big angry dog._

This was ridiculous. He wasn’t _scared_ of this thing. He could kill it in a heartbeat; Yoruichi was the one who didn’t want it dead. Then again, _she didn’t seem to want to fetch a fang from it either. That bitch._ No wonder she was so keen on Grimmjow getting it instead of her. _Coward,_ he thought, willing his hand not to shake as he threaded his fingers around the hilt.

The beast noticed, and let out a low, angry growl. One that rumbled into Grimmjow’s bones. Cursing his not so latent instincts, Grimmjow fought the urge to call out to Pantera and release his true form, but released his grip on her instead. More foaming drool splattered the ground behind him, hitting the ground with a disgusting squelch.

Standing still as a corpse, Grimmjow let the beast smell him some more. What were his other options, really? If he’d be banned back to Hueco Mundo indefinitely for killing it, he couldn’t just reach out and pull out a single fang. He didn’t have a lot of faith in the creature’s intelligence, but everything knew pain. That and it wasn’t worth losing his arm…again.

“Koneko…”

The sound rumbled from above him, out of the jowls of the drooling monster above, behind, and surrounding him.

_Koneko?_

Grimmjow felt his eye twitch. Just because the beast could smell Pantera didn’t mean he was some damn _kitten._ Screw fang, he was gonna pluck out this thing’s eyes and eat them.

“Koneko…it…hurts…”

Hands held in tight fists to his sides, he willed himself not to snap back at the thing. _Tch, you’re gonna be hurtin’ here inna minute,_ he thought, not bothering to suppress a glare as more drool splattered onto his other shoulder. Grimmjow shuddered at the sensation, feeling it seep through his clothing. He’d need Kisuke to cook him a little in some kind of kido fire to get the smell out of his skin now.

Shifting his fuming gaze up towards the creature’s big-ass furry face, he noticed the teeth again. One fang was significantly blacker than the others. It looked…

“It hurts Koneko…”

The voice was more of a whine, he realized, as the creature shifted around, laying its big body on the ground, smashing a few trees in the process. Wood flew in all directions and the dog lay down on its belly, but didn’t seem to mind any sharp pieces.

“Koneko…help?”

_Oh hell no._

Grimmjow’s eyes widened at the pleading look on the beast’s face. Why the hell were people trying to get him to interact with dogs so damn much if they knew he didn’t like them?

This…giant dog…wanted Grimmjow…to _remove_ the fang? With what, his hands? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

_Then again, that would make my job a hellova lot easier._

Still.

“An’ how do I know you ain’t jus’ gonna take my arm off?”

If Nel could see him trying to cooperate with this thing, she’d try and hug him, squishing her stupid boobs all over him uncomfortably as she threw her arms around his neck, knocking her dumb mask against his forehead. Just looking at her made his back hurt, made his everything hurt, if he was being honest.

“Haru said…same…please Koneko…it hurts…” Even the amount of moving his mouth did when he tried to speak, which he wasn’t very good by the way, the words were barely understandable, it looked like it hurt like hell. Grimmjow sighed. He didn’t even want to think what Kurosaki would say if he saw him acting like…like some scared little _kitten,_ so he flexed his hand once, twice, three times as he turned around slowly to face the creature, mind made up.

“You bite down on me, you’re gonna lose more than just a tooth, got it?”

The creature nodded with big, relieved eyes and opened its mouth wide.

\-----------

“Great,” Ichigo mumbled to himself, glaring at the trees in front, to the side, behind him—they were everywhere, what’s the deal with that, yeah it was _another_ forest. How many did Karakura need, anyway?

_How many forests can one city have? This is ridiculous._

**You’re just mad Yoruichi stole Grimmjow away,** Shiro supplied, a wild glint in his eyes. Ichigo frowned. White was right, of course, he usually was, even if he was a little, or a lot, insane. Still.

This was the opposite thing he would rather do on a Friday night. Sure, Grimmjow was back, but he barely got a word in edgewise as he was tackled through the garganta, and falling into Urahara’s training bunker laid out on his back like he was some kind of fillet dinner for one. Grimmjow had straddled his waist and everything and he’d barely been able to listen to the shopkeeper’s ramblings. Since when did Grimmjow have this big of an effect on him?

**Since a long, long time ago, King.**

_You’re not helping. Like, at all. You know that right?_

**Absolutely.**

_Good. At least we’re on the same page._

He’d at least remembered to not drop the single black feather, clutched in his fisted-up hand, as well as a small pouch with something inside. The way it sounded when he swung it around his finger, it contained liquid. _If I’ve been carrying around a pouch of Urahara piss, I’m going to murder him. Grimmjow would help no questions asked._

“Dear Ichigo,” Ichigo said, mocking Urahara’s voice. “I need you to go to the forest and find a cat spirit without _your_ cat spirit.” He frowned at the ground under his feet, green and waiting for the consistent warmth of summer. The sunset was starting to make things look weird with the colors all mixing together in the setting sun. Stashing the pouchful of probable Urahara piss up his sleeve, he kicked a small rock, knocking it into the base of a nearby tree.

“Tch. Get wrecked Urahara. He’s not _my_ cat spirit, anyway.”

“Ah, that explains the smell then,” a voice echoed out from in front of him, shrouded by the trees. Eyes darting between the trees and into what little shapes he could make out from the shadows, he saw a whole lot of nothing.

Until a cat walked out. On its hind legs.

Ichigo rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands—Yoruichi was one thing. But even she didn’t walk upright in her cat form. Talking he could deal with. Walking like a person—absolutely not.

Looking back, the cat was leaning up against the bark of a thick tree. Gray and striped, the cat spirit crossed its arms—legs?—and stared at Ichigo, eyes large and shining.

“Uh…hi? Are you—I mean, you must be…wha—who I’m…looking…for?” The cat looked more and more unimpressed as Ichigo stuttered around, going so far as to give its paw a good lick or two as he finished.

“Hurry it up, boy. I’m quite busy. What do you want?”

The statement took Ichigo back. “Busy? How?”

What would a cat spirit be busy with exactly? Catching spirit mice? Were those a thing? The shaft of the feather dug into his palm as he tightened his fist back up. He could see the spirits single tail swish back and forth lazily, an ear flicked back once or twice, but the rest of its body language seemed relaxed. As far as Ichigo could tell, anyway.

“I don’t see the need to explain my ways to you, human. But if you must know. I’m hiding.”

Ichigo quirked an eyebrow. Hiding? From what? He shook his head to the side and figured it was best not to ask. The sooner he could barter for a whisker, the sooner he could get the hell out of there and find Grimmjow. They had a lot to talk about, even if Grimmjow wasn’t in a talking mood.

The cat turned around, all four paws on the ground before he could consider what he was going to say to the arrancar. Tail fuzzed up in a huge, bushy mess, it let out a feral hiss before darting behind Ichigo’s legs, peaking around one as its ears lay back on its head, face scrunched up, teeth bared.

“Get away from me you mangy thing!”

Ichigo whipped his head back up, right where the cat had been moments before. That was Grimmjow’s voice. What was Grimmjow doing here? Didn’t Yoruichi send him on his own mission?

“But you helped me! I need to thank you!”

That was a different, tenor male sounding voice. Branches breaking underfoot, leaves rustling along the ground. It sounded like they were getting closer. The cat growled from behind his leg, tail flicking around sharply, hitting the back of his calf through his shihaksho.

“Then leave me alone!”

“Not that idiot again,” the cat said with an irritated hiss. 

What the hell was going on? Grimmjow had helped someone? Was that the mission Yoruichi had sent him on? And this cat seemed to know exactly who the excited other voice belonged too—and didn’t like them.

“Stand still human,” the cat ordered. Not that he had anywhere else to go. He still needed a whisker, and Urahara would probably kill him if he didn’t get it. Whatever all this shit was for, Ichigo figured it was some morbid kind of gift for Yoruichi.

_Didn’t he mention their anniversary or something coming up?_

**Your listening skills are abysmal, Ichigo.**

_Did White wake you up?_

**I’m always awake, and he’d rather you call him Shiro or Shirosaki.**

_That can’t be good for your health._

“Haru! Haru, look!”

Ichigo watched as blue was thrown to the ground in a heap, groan escaping him as he pushed himself up on his arms, shaking his head back and forth like he was trying to get something wet out of it. He fell back down to the ground a moment later, when another person jumped onto his back. A hand on either shoulder, pulling Grimmjow up and shaking him excitedly.

“Haru, look! This bigger cat helped me!”

Grimmjow tried to turn around and press his back to the ground, clawing up at the creature in front of him. Ichigo saw a tan tail, fluffed up and curled slightly rising from behind the other man, as he blatantly ignored Grimmjow’s claws swiping at him, tearing his dragonfly pattered yukata sleeves.

“Get off me you—”

“Haru!”

The man’s mouth was open, tongue hanging out, pointed tan ears flicking around like he was out of his mind with glee. Ichigo would’ve laughed if the guy wasn’t practically laying on top of Grimmjow. 

The cat hissed from behind his legs; Ichigo felt claws prickle through his shihaksho and he shook his leg a little, hoping to deter the little furball from using his leg as a scratching post.

“Who are you? What’s going on?”

Was Ichigo’s tone accusing? Maybe. Was the dog-man pissing him off with how he was rolling around on Grimmjow? Absolutely. Grimmjow didn’t look like he was faring much better, sprawled out on the ground ungracefully, arm now propping up his head, tapping long, clawed fingers on the undergrowth as his eyes twitched like he was on his very last nerve and this dog-man was wielding a knife that could cut it with ease. 

“Go away Kyo,” the cat—Haru, the dog called him? —they sounded…taller? This mission kept getting better and better. And what the hell was Grimmjow holding onto with knuckles snow white in his other hand? A giant, blackened horn? Locking eyes with the arrancar, Ichigo saw him narrow his into a piercing glare and let out a hiss of his own—a sound he’d never heard the man make before, as his fangs grew longer, sharper, like he was entering a partial resurrection transformation. It raised gooseflesh up on his arm, hairs prickling outward as if preparing his body for the ex-espada to attack.

A hiss came right back, this time from behind Ichigo’s ear, as claws prickled on his bicep, long fingers wrapping and squeezing around it. Turning his head slowly, he saw the cat was now a man—a tall one, with pale gray ears, matching hair spiking around his face and down his neck a little. Bright green eyes stared at him as he glanced up to his face, a small scar cutting through the left side of his lip and down his chin.

“So this is your… _koneko_ , then, boy.”

Haru’s voice was rumbling, almost purring, as Ichigo felt the claws sink through his sleeves and into his skin, drawing a little blood he was sure.

_Great. Now it’s a guy. How am I supposed to get a whisker now?_

**You certainly have your priorities straightened out there, King.**

_That’s because if I don’t get it, I can’t go back to the shop._

**How’s that a bad thing?**

_Why do you think, you idiot._

**Ah, right. Your _kitten._**

Ichigo would love nothing more than to lovingly tap Shiro’s face, with a brick thrown at 50mph. He was right, of course, which only made it worse. If Ichigo chickened out now, he wouldn’t be allowed back in the shoten for ruining whatever hellish present this was turning out to be; then he’d have to rely on Grimmjow to come to him. Not that he minded the pursuit; it would just be a pain in the ass. Plus, where would they fight? It wasn’t worth giving that up in the end, even if Haru looked more and more like he was going to eat him for dinner.

“Ah, no he’s not a—”

“Get away from him your half-assed excuse for a—”

“Haru!” The dog man—Kyo, _there are way too many names for me to remember here—_ jumped off Grimmjow’s back, allowing him to get off the ground and brush himself off, eyes not leaving the spirit behind him. “Look! He pulled out my fang! It was hurting me a lot and now it’s all better!”

_So that’s what’s in his hand, huh? Gross._

He could hear Haru sniffing around his arm and neck, pushing against his arm a little, claws _kneading_ his bicep in the worst, bloodiest, massage he’d ever gotten.

“Ah, I see. Koneko is jealous, no?”

Haru’s other hand curled around the one holding the feather, running stiletto points over the knuckles of his fingers. Ichigo swallowed; Grimmjow being this close was one thing. This guy was another story entirely, and not from any book he’d like to read.

And he called Grimmjow a _kitten_. He was standing _right there,_ fuming, eyes set in a violet rage of blues, taking a slow, decisive step forward. _I don’t want to be in the middle of a cat fight,_ Ichigo thought miserably. Tightening his fist around the feather, which was getting tugged at, Ichigo clenched his teeth together.

“Get off me and I’ll give it to you,” he said, looking down at Haru still sniffing the sleeve of his upper arm like a huge creep. Ichigo glanced back at Grimmjow, who had taken another slow step forward, claws ready and sharp on both hands now. Until Kyo happened anyway.

“Haru!” The Inugami said again, this time bouncing around and jumping up, knocking his skull against Grimmjow’s set chin, closing his mouth around his tongue if luck had left like she usually did. Ichigo tried not to snort, as he fell back a little, clutching his mouth, which was dripping a little bit of blood, he noticed, while Kyo barely noticed a thing, still bouncing and jumping up and down.

“We should celebrate! My fang doesn’t hurt anymore!”

One more bounce and he was on Ichigo’s other side, wrapping skinny arms around his only free limb like a snake coiling around prey. Kyo was looking around Ichigo’s torso, directly at the bakeneko who had ceased his uncomfortable sniffing, and sighed with a frown, nose twitching a little. 

Ichigo looked once at Grimmjow and realized if he didn’t put a stop to whatever nonsense these two spirits were up to, Grimmjow would kill all three of them with negative regrets. Hell, he’d probably remember it fondly for the rest of his nine lives, or whatever.

Shrugging off the two spirits was easier said than done however. Kyo was off him in a second, bounding around and grabbing a hold of the cat, who hissed as he wrapped his arms around the man’s torso. Claws absolutely dug into his upper arm and drew blood—Ichigo felt it drip down his arm.

“Will you get the hell off me?”

Kyo whined in agreement, wanting to probably chase Haru around a little in _celebration_ or whatever he called it. Ichigo never considered going to the dentist a worthy celebration, but he’d take anything he could get right now, so long as it wasn’t Grimmjow killing them all violently.

Claws had barely retracted from his arm as Ichigo was spun around and a new set of claws, sharper and way more painful, dug into each of his arms, and he sighed, feeling his back rest up against Grimmjow’s chest.

Ichigo watched as the Inugami clung to the taller male, who’s arms reluctantly draped over the dog’s shoulders. Feeling a puff of air on the back of his neck, his head, his hair, Ichigo sighed in aggravation; what was _with_ all these cats smelling him all of a sudden? Grimmjow he could understand, he guessed, since the other had his claws in him not a minute ago, but the other he was at a loss for.

Wanting to get out as quickly as possible, Ichigo locked eyes on the bakeneko’s green ones.

“I need one of your whiskers,” he said suddenly, hoping the reaction wouldn’t be a violent one. He didn’t want to bleed anymore, and he’d bled way more than this in his spars with the arrancar behind him. At least the fights were enjoyable. This situation was...not. 

“You smell like shit,” he heard in his ear, causing him to roll his eyes.

“You don’t smell much better, jackass. Get your claws outta my arms.”

“That feather isn’t worth one of my whiskers. Tengu or not.” Ichigo turned back to the cat, who looked, unhappy was a nice word for it, but held his gaze steady nonetheless. Kyo pushed himself off Haru and put all fours on the ground.

“I can get you a whisker, since Koneko helped me!”

He felt Grimmjow tense behind him as the man’s body started to shift into something else, tan body, white underbelly, curly tail, and…small? Once the shift was over, he barely came up to Ichigo’s mid-calf. A small growl rumbled behind him, Ichigo could feel it through his back, as Grimmjow muttered something about him being _small now, shitty dog._

“Give him a whisker or I’ll chase you up a tree!”

“Ah no,” Ichigo said, taking a step forward, or trying to, but was held back by Grimmjow’s vice grip, tense and unyielding on his arms. “Look, I’ve also got,” he dug around in his left sleeve, the sleeve Haru had been sniffing at for well over five minutes like he was looking for drugs, “this, if that would held sweeten the deal any.”

Urahara had said not to barter with it unless absolutely necessary, but it seemed pretty necessary right now. Haru’s eyes went wide, pupils dilated, even as the dog—which looked very close to a Shiba Inu, though something was definitely _off_ about it—grabbed a hold of one flowing sleeve and tugged it down, off his shoulder. Ichigo hadn’t noticed the flowing crimson kimono before, but since he’d been in front of him, why would he?

“Let me smell,” he said, holding out a hand, claws receded thankfully.

Ichigo clutched it back, curling his fingers around the pouch and holding it at his heart.

“Ah, sorry. Can’t trust that. You can have the Tengu feather and…whatever this is for one whisker.”

If someone had told Ichigo a few weeks ago he’d be tasked with getting a single whisker of a bakeneko by trading a bird feather and a jar of mystery liquid, he’d laughed in their face and asked if Urahara had given them any weird drugs. Now? Well, asking still felt ridiculous, but at least he could do it with a straight face, even with Grimmjow quite literally breathing down his neck like he was one twitch away from slaughtering both spirits in a maddening frenzied rage.

“Keep hold of it then. I need to make sure it is real.”

Haru shook off the dog pulling his sleeve with ease and told him with a scathing voice to _sit_ and _behave_ , unless he wanted to have his eyes scratched out.

“Fine.”

Ichigo tried to shrug out of Grimmjow’s own talons, but didn’t really succeed as they just circled around his torso instead, all but locking him against his body, his head somewhere between the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Dropping his head in a sigh, he took a small, golden jar out of the gray pouch and twisted off the cap, holding it out for the man in front of him to take a whiff of. Grimmjow’s arms circled him tighter, crushing what little air left in his lungs, hands clutching at his shihaksho, as the cat stepped forward slowly, taking one long sniff of the jar.

Without a word, Haru nodded to Ichigo and bowed his head, shoulders drooping, arms shortening, until he was looking at a gray tabby cat once more. Kyo was practically vibrating behind him in excitement, as the cat pulled one whisker from his…cheek?...and laid it at Ichigo’s feet expectantly.

“There. Now give me my feather and sardine oil.”

Ichigo choked.

“It’s _what?_ ”

So Urahara hadn’t actually pissed in a little jar as a joke? It was _fish oil?_ Ichigo almost wished it was a pee jar as he felt Grimmjow growl, low and threatening, into his back, fingers twitching into his chest. _Damn_ , they haven’t been this close since Urahara had made them sleep in the same bed. Or since Grimmjow had decided he wanted to be the little spoon on Ichigo’s futon. It would be nice, he decided, _if I could actually breathe._

“Sardine Oil. Now give it here. I want it.”

_Well, at least he knows what he wants._

**Are you talking about that cat or your own?**

_Shut up._

Ichigo let it drop to the ground, seeing as how he didn’t think Grimmjow would actually let him bend his body any, and the cat caught it in its fangy little mouth. Offering the feather next, Haru wrapped his tail around it unnaturally, tail wound tight like a copper coil, which was kind of gross to see, but whatever. Without another word, he trotted off into the forest, Kyo behind him, prancing and dancing around, yapping about how _good_ his face felt now, and _wasn’t that koneko so nice._

“You can let go now, you know,” Ichigo said, after both spirits had long since left, leaving Grimmjow still circling strong arms around his waist, growling into his ear.

“You smell like shit," he repeated near Ichigo's ear. 

Trying to heave out a sigh, he twisted out of the arrancar's grasp with some struggling, but managed to get it done and face him. Looking at his form, twitchy, hair wet and spiked up weird, like something had licked it, jacket and parts of his jumpsuit torn, he decided they could maybe talk later. Grimmjow was at his limit. 

“Yeah, well so do you,” Ichigo countered softly.

“C’mon, lemme get my body from Urahara’s and you can use my shower or something.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I hope you enjoyed this addition to the series! As always, Kudo's and comments are always appreciated! :D


End file.
